Stanley’s pace slackened. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. ‘In the bookroom, sir,’ answered the man, his eyes round as they took in the furious beauty at the visitor’s side. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you.
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